


bravely I wield

by ruler-of-dawn (Blacknovelist)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Post-Canon, could be any universe technically but I imagine GD/a nobody dies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacknovelist/pseuds/ruler-of-dawn
Summary: For the past twenty-or-so years of Byleth's conscious life, all they have known is fighting.
Kudos: 8





	bravely I wield

**Author's Note:**

> title from _Show Your Fangs_ by The Crane Wives.

For the past twenty-or-so years of Byleth's conscious life, all they have known is fighting.

The path of a mercenary is rife with conflict, and Byleth was born wide-eyed and watching. They cling to old memories — older still than they should be, they know, by the five years paid on that battlefield — of their dad, of not-aunts and not-uncles, of old and new faces in the hodgepodge camps they occasionally called home teaching them the tools of the trade. How to throw a knife, hold an axe, brandish a sword, twirl a lance. Joining the company when they did hadn't been Jeralt's choice, just a product of necessity as bandits grew stronger and monsters grew stronger. Combat was — is — safe in its familiarity, in how they can vent out their heart with every swing they take, in its presence in their mind as a challenge they've learned long ago how to win. It is all they know, all they've learned, all they've been taught.

It's been three weeks since the last of the Agarthan's fell. Two, since the Kingdom, Empire and Alliance declared an end to the war. Half a week now, since the last of the stragglers and soldiers, those who didn't hear the ceasefires or didn't care to heed, had been routed and sent home. And after years of a weapon's pommel making home in their palm, Byleth can't help but stumble in the sudden absence.

Something about the abruptness of it all leaves the world off-balance. Like an itch they can't scratch, budding into existence somewhere between their shoulder blades and spreading out without purpose to grasp at what it can. Like a film it clings, every nerve and muscle lit in slow creeping waves, amplifying the world inside and out until even the smallest of things set their body on edge. They're aware of it all, too, excessively so — that tug on their jaw that was a growl they swallowed, the twitch of fingers to a knife mercifully hidden from all but the keenest of eyes. Even the long draught of fresh Leicester air meant to temper an out-of-line temper slips down their throat, into their lungs and leaves them only with an ever-sharper sense that the membrane beneath their skin is but a moment from snapping and sending them right back where they'd started.

There's no time to sit down and figure out what's going on in their own head, though. The fights that take place in the halls of House Riegan are not the sort Byleth is familiar with, not the kind Byleth can take part in, but the kids (not kids, not anymore, but it's so hard to remember and so hard to think about) have requested their presence regardless so they will try. Someone will probably be around for a spar if they really need it, though they suspect — hope — that this mood will simply leave them with time.

Until then, they'll push through. It's all they know how to do.

**Author's Note:**

> *thinks about how Byleth has probably been a mercenary for a long time before the game started*  
> *thinks about how Byleth's emotional growth was stunted bc of Sothis things*  
> *thinks about how Jeralt canonically seems to have a hard time also expressing himself emotionally*  
> *thinks about how Mercs are probably not the greatest role models on how to process your feelings*  
> *thinks about how Byleth probably never had a reason or way to learn about those things bc they had such a hard time with them in the first place*  
> *thinks about how fighting is a hell of a coping mechanism*  
> *thinks about how Byleth needs to be a steady constant in every ending, an unchanging companion thrown five years into the future who's the same as they'd ever been, how lost they must be the whole time*  
> *thinks about how tired they might be of it, of being steady, of the bloodshed, of how it's all they know but maybe they still dream of something quieter somewhere out there—*
> 
> Happy birthday to me, yo. Originally written as a character study on Myleth (my byleth) specifically, so if there's any weirdness left over from that, I apologize! I've just..... been thinking about byleth/three houses a lot lately...


End file.
